Sweetie Pie
by StripedHatter
Summary: On Bilbo's birthday, Pippin tries to steal a pie from a lovely hobbit girl, one of his closest friends. When he returns, he decides to pay back the pie, and finds something sweeter than dessert.


"Oh, it's hopeless!"

I flumped down in the chair, glaring at the pie in the sill. Of seventeen, it was the only one to come out perfectly. I sighed and stood up, strolling into a deeper corner of the house to retrieve yet another bag of flour, to try baking yet another pie. Rosie had said if I could just bring three decently edible pies we'd have enough- but Rosie, well, her optimism in others had seemingly caused her to forget the fact I can't cook. Even for a Cotton, I'm exceptionally bad at cooking.

I returned to the kitchen just in time to see the pie vanish from the window. The flour thumped against the hardwood as it fell from my hands, and I felt I was positively steaming.

"Peregrin Took!" I bellowed, and then raced out of the house and to the road. Naturally, he was crouched just around the gate, out of eye-sight from the door and just behind a bush that would have hidden him from eyes even a smidge less keen than mine. I glared directly at him and started over. "That is the only pie of seventeen that came out even considerably edible! If so much as a speck of dirt is on it, I'll hang you by your toes!"

He ducked out of the bush (naturally, that Meriadoc Brandybuck popped out after him) and held out the pie. "Here; we didn't mean any harm."

"There'll be plenty of pie tonight and most much better than mine," I reminded him, blowing a loose strand of hair out of my eye. "Now, you leave this pie out to set; go bother my cousin with the perfect baking skills."

"Ah, but she would slit our throats where we stood," Merry pointed out, but then added, "Well, maybe not; she wouldn't want blood getting in her pies."

I tried to keep a grim look, but a grin broke through at Pippin's added words. "She might not mind, she could make another."

"Peregrin, I will-"

"Pippin, sweetheart," Pippin corrected, grinning cheekily. "You only call me Peregrin when you're angry, and we're past that, aren't we?"

I glared for a moment longer, but I was already smiling. I shook my head. "Go; patronize the Shire. Just stay out of my window sill unless you're bringing pies to replace this one with something decent."

She bid them farewell and stepped back into her gate, absent-mindedly brushing off her dress as she walked into the house. Sweetheart, was i-

The doorframe knocked into my hand and the pie inched backwards. In desperation to balance it I leapt back and jolted up my other hand, which promptly knocked it to the ground. For a moment I only gaped, and the laughter from the road wasn't helping.

"Trouble, Miss Cotton?" Pippin called out. Exasperated, flabberghasted, and now downright humiliated, I did the only thing a proud Cotton could do: I hitched up my skirt, blamed a Took, and started chasing Pippin down the road. Once he saw me flying toward him, he took off at a full sprint, leaving Merry laughing in his wake. I chased him down the main road, ignoring the looks from passerby' and leaping over dips and decor that accented the roads of the Shire. Pippin took a sudden turn toward the Water, and I didn't hesitate for a minute, simply dashing after him.

The tall grass hid what uncertain slopes lie around the hill, but nonetheless, I chased him right down to the water's edge-

Where he promptly tripped and fell in the water, and my daft self tripped and fell right after him.

Cold water surged over my head and I bolted up, feeling Pippin lift himself up beneath me. Blinking water from my eyes, I realized I had fallen on top of him- oh, this is just lovely. I quickly scrambled back to the bank and sat back on my feet, rubbing my eyes. I looked over at Pippin, who was still sitting in the water gaping at me, and parted my lips to say some remark about this not being my day, and then ended up only exhaling. I gathered my now-wet thick hair and wrung it out over the pebbly shore, and then looked down at the mud splotches and grass stains all over dress, legs, and feet, and then looked up at Pippin, and could only grin.

I started laughing, and once I did, he joined, and for several long minutes we couldn't stop. I shook my head when I was finally bringing myself back to something semblent of normal breathing. "I blame you for all of this."

"Me?" Pippin repeated, astounded. "What did I do?"

"What didn't you do?" I countered, grinning still.

"I gave you back the pie!"

"And you called me sweetheart!" I exclaimed, surprised at my boldness. "And that distracted me and caused me to nearly walk into the doorframe, and cost me a pie, and therefore the good favor of my cousin Rosie. Do you know how hard it is to convince her to cook casual niceties for you? Nearly impossible. And now my dress is ruined, I'm covered in mud, Bilbo's birthday party starts in only a few short minutes, and- and I'm here with you on the shore of the river and honestly don't care anymore about looking nice and pretending I can cook to impress the people of this town, not when you seem content enough just sitting here with me."

My cheeks tinged pink, and he turned to her with surprise in his eyes. But a slow smile spread his lips. "I am content, outside of my hindquarters being thoroughly soaked. And getting more so by the moment."

I laughed and stood, and then helped him up. Once we were both standing on the pebbly shore, I looked up at him, and then pursed my lips for a brief moment. "You're tall."

"For a hobbit," he replied, and I grinned as he added, "That Gandalf fellow makes me feel plenty short. Do you think he's here yet?"

"Heard earlier he had come in," I answered. "Boy, Rosie is going to be mad I didn't get those pies. Of course, it's her fault for choosing the worst baker in all the Shire."

Pippin shook his head. "Not the worst; third, maybe. Merry and I have you beat, I believe."

"Do you realize we're just standing a little too close to each other, alone, on the riverbank, at twilight, talking about almost nothing?"

"Oh," Pippin gasped, half-laughing, as he stepped back. He gestured back the way they'd came. "Let's return, then, shall we? I'm sure there's all kinds of mischief at a birthday party, and you've a cousin to disappoint."

I couldn't help beaming at something in his eyes then. "Let's be off, then."

The kitchen was dull in overcast afternoon light. The soft whish-hiss-whish-hiss of the broom swept across floorboards echoed throughout the house, and I sighed, leaning the broom on the counter. I wandered over to the window and pushed it open, looking out and around. It was a cloudy day, had hardly been a moment when a patch of sun escaped the relentless cloud cover, and it seemed to be affecting my spirits. That, and the fact that the Shire's two most lively hobbits had vanished, leaving me behind. Rumor was they were off on some adventure, and that was believable; if anyone were to get involved in a scheme of that sort, it would be Merry and Pippin. But the room was Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee were off with them somewhere, as all four had vanished the same sunny morn. It had been months, now; would I ever see them again?

As if in response, the sun forced its way through the clouds, shedding light on the new shoots of grass and budding blossoms of my yard, and I forced a smile. Heaving myself out of the window, I forced myself to stop wallowing and picked up the broom. I returned to my house chores- whish-hiss-whish-hiss...

The sun ducked behind another cloud, casting the room in gloomy gray light. While Pippin and Merry had been each other's best friends- still are, I corrected myself- they had also been the two hobbits I got along best with, though it wouldn't seem so. There were certainly hobbits I spoke to more, or at least more frequently, but none that I had as much fun with. Merry and Pippin had brought adventure, humor, mischief; without them, the Shire seemed a little to... Dull. And there was nothing I could do to fix it; mischief alone is nothing compared to mischief with a friend.

The sun came back out just as a few knocks rapped against my door. I rested the broom on the counter again, glad for an excuse to stop doing the mundane task I'd done twelve times this week already, and straightened out the trousers and tunic I'd been wearing to clean in. What a sight I'd be- hair half-falling-out of the bun, in mens' clothing, likely a smudge of dirt somewhere on my face; not that it mattered, of course, when the only one I'd care about seeing my like this was Pippin. That thought in mind, I carried on to the door without a care and swung it open.

"I'm back!"

Pippin stood in the doorway, holding a pie in his hands. I barely had time to gasp before I was automatically taking the pie from his hands, setting it on the end table, and then returning to the doorway and pulling him into the closest hug I may have ever shared with anyone. It was a hug like no other; the closeness, the way I held him close and tight, the smooth texture of the elven garments he wore against the cheek I rested on his shoulder, the smell of adventure on his skin, the bare flutter of his curls on forehead. Midway-through, I pulled him even closer, so that by then our feet interlapped and I swore I could feel his heartbeat pulse in rhythm with mine.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, just hugging him. At some point, my eyes warmed with tears, and I let a few spill out. As they leaked into the fabric of his shoulder, he began to gently rub my back. When I felt I had composed myself again, a sudden thought cast me back a bit. I pulled out of his hold and planted my hands on my hips.

"And just where were ye, Peregrin Took?"

His old grin appeared, but I noticed it had faded some. He glanced over his shoulder. "That's... A very long story. Do you mind if I..?" He gestured toward the house, as if wanting to come in.

"First," I said, holding up a hand, "How is it I haven't heard of your return?"

He looked down, and then looked back up with a nervous smile. "I came straight here. To you."

Taken slightly aback, I stared at him for a moment, and then invited him in.

"You were really in the battle?" I said, more of a statement than a question. I was amazed; he had been through much since I'd last seen him. By now, there was dusk on the Shire, and a third kettle of tea sat on the table to refill the two steaming mugs that had been out since Pippin's entry into my home.

"I was," Pippin replied, looking as if he was trying hard to keep composure. "I... It was horrible. People died, so many people died. I almost died."

"And I'm so glad you didn't," I said, my hand wandering closer to his. I held it back, letting it fall on the table. He glanced at my hand, and I sought a diversion, "As I'm glad Merry didn't. You said he made it- where is he now?"

"Visiting his family," Pippin answered, grinning, "As I likely should be. But I'm here with you, and that's enough for me."

My cheeks reddened a bit, but I took on my old jokingly angry tone. "Pippin, you should really go see them- they love you, and worried, and nearly every day would wonder where you were since you just up and disappeared! I'm sure they'd like nothing more than to hug you and never let go."

"I don't think you're talking about my family, dear."

My lips parted for a witty quip, but none came as my lips snapped shut and my cheeks reddened. I looked down at the tea cup, drinking a sip idly. Warm fingers caught mine, a hand wrapping around my hand, and I felt my heart flutter against my ribs as I looked up.

"Now," Pippin continued, "I didn't just stop by to tell you where I was. Or to give you the pie, though that was make-up for what happened way back when. I came by because when I thought back to the Shire, the first thing I wanted to see was your smiling face. I love my family, I do, but knowing you were here- or so I hoped- carrying on without me made me so, so sad, and I know why. It's because if you felt even an inkling for me of what I feel for you, then you would have spent those days awaiting my uncertain return, with no idea where I was. And if you didn't feel that inkling, then you were carrying on as if nothing had changed, or perhaps a bit happier."

"Peregrin Took, you are positively arrogant," I said, and something in his face lost its intensity. I saw him trying to formulate a joke to brush off the hurt etching his features, and I hurried on. "And if you were anything less, you wouldn't be the Pippin I've been waiting for, for so long. Of course I feel that inkling; I feel more than an inkling. What do you think that hug was earlier?"

By now, I was just babbling, and stopped myself at the wide smile lifting every part of his face. Pippin stood, pulling me up with him, and yanked me into a tight hug. I hugged back, surprised- this hug was different from earliers; this one, he was the initiator, and I noticed one thing above all else: "Pippin, you've grown quite strong."

"Oh, am I crushing you!?" He stepped back, ending the hug, and laughed sheepishly. "Sorry."

I grinned and shook my head, and then found my hands meeting his cheeks. Looking into his twinkling eyes with the echo of his mirthful laugh, with that smile dearer to me than any, I found I could only whisper, "You're back."

And he could only reply, "You feel the same. All this time, you feel the same."

I was grinning so wide my eyes crinkled. "Well, for a while there, I kind of hated you for leaving me behind, and then I was sad because I was left behind, and then I was scared witless because you might not come back, and then I thought maybe I care for you more than as a friend if I feel all these things, and then I felt confused, and then I was just-"

I was cut off with warm, plump lips meeting mine. For a moment, I stood in shock: even after I realized what was happening- which took a minute due to my denial that it would ever happen- I had to remember how to react past that butterflies filling me from head to toe. Finally, I kissed back, my hands slipping down to his neck. He had one on my cheek and one on my side, and after a chaste but warm kiss, he pulled me into another hug and then pulled back and kissed me again, planting peck after peck to my lips, until we were both laughing too much to kiss.

"Sweetheart, I have a confession," Pippin said quietly, "Merry and I stole that pie from Rosie. I wanted to bake one, I did- but I had to see you, and didn't have time."

I just shook my head and kissed him again. "That's okay; your pie-making abilities were always horrible, and I don't think the elves or Gandalf taught you how to improve them."

"You would be correct."

"Does this mean we'll never be able to have good pies?"

"Nah; just means I have to teach you how to steal them." 


End file.
